2283: The NCR Jumped The Gun
by Hemms Osterham
Summary: A reboot of a story I never finished.  In by 2283 The NCR has annexed New Vegas as a state. Civilization came at last to the Mojave. Max is a young man who evolves from naive idealism to bitter understanding in his quest to become like the Heroes of old.
1. Brave New World

Dazzling in gold and silver, the statue of the Vault Dweller shone brilliantly in the middle of Shady Sands, the capital of the New California Republic. Down Aradesh Lane one would find the Monument to Tandi that stood over the capital. An ever vigilant eye over the nation she created from scratch. Were that statue to be personified, it would weep for what it's country had become. Behind the statue of Tandi lies the Senatatorial Rotunda and across the street, infront of the statue lies the President's house. sprawling out in a series of circles are the streets of the capital. Several more statues and monuments dot the city. Monuments such as the Commemoration of the Brotherhood War, where a lone NCR Trooper stands alone 3 against Brotherhood Paladins in a much dramatized photo from the forgotten war.

Much like an Old World city would look, electric lights flood the streets, and even a few cars run, though most people walk. The buildings are adobe and sand, and the streets are paved with cobblestone. Walls line the impressive city. Streets extend out past the gate in four directions, all connecting the republic to its states. A 5th road, a massive road, a post war interstate, was currently under construction to connect to the I-15 to the new territory of Vegas.

The Republic had thrown everything they had into the war, and damnit they were going to make sure they recouped, and even profited from their losses. Everything was about Vegas. the Burough of Republic Promotion printed pamflets twenty four seven advertising the weath and prosperity of vegas.

When just a few years ago the citizens of the republic gathered in Radio tavernes to hear the daily report, there was affluence enough for as much as eighty percent of households to own a recreational radio in the urban areas, and in the rural communities even most farms had one. Magazines were printed showing wonderful photographs of the lands of the Mojave, and the glimering lights of the Strip. And even the old invention of Television was making a slight comback. Toasters, Ovens, Refridgerators. Consume consume consume. And most of all, travel! See the world! The roads are safe! We have conquered the Wasteland. It is a wasteland no longer!

For the first time in 200 years the people of what was America had the affluence to not just survive, but live, and they wanted to consume. They wanted non nessessities. Possetions with which they can prove their wealth, and vegas had exactly that. Millions of trinkets. Postcards, prints, posters, poker chips, card decks, and the capacity of the Old World Factories to produce electronics like radios and TV's abound. Mr. House's prediction may yet come true. In a hundred years man may be in orbit once again.

In the outlaying cities of the Republic the feelings were mutual, and the growth just as abundant. The Hub, Reno, Junktown, Dayglow, Maxon, Vault City, all of them growing at an exponential rate in population and wealth. Radio shows could be heard comming from everyone's homes, and travel along the roads was safe. Even the far off village or Arroyo was installing public lighting.

In this area of the world, this promised land known as California, the world was healing, and growing. All thanks to the sacrefices of soldiers, and the risks of thier General. Yes, the war was brutal, and yes it cost many Californian lives, but the ends justified the means. Men died for the freedom of NCR, but no one expected the prosperity that was knocking on the door of President Kimball's office. The President, allready a hero of the people, the winner of the Legionary War, the greatest president since Tandi. And lets not forget the general who made it happen! General Lee Oliver! The President was eager to reign for four more years over this prosperous land. This land that had no problems. This land where everyone was happy and no one was poor. This land that was too good to be true.


	2. Radioland

Tinny gunfire resounded around the room. The sound of fake screams and the yelling of positions was abound in the air. 

"Damn Fascist! They enslave our women and take our lives!" A disembodied voice said. 

"Vidi Vini Vici!" Another voice said. "The Mojave will be ours! Ave! True to Caesar!" 

"Caesar will NEVER cross the Colorado! The day is ours boys!" The responding voice said. 

"For the Republic! For the Courier! For Kimball!" A chorus of gruff voices said. 

More gunfire and death yells. 

"And that concludes the 5th installment of 'The Courier: Hero Of The Republic' and his days fighting evil. Wherever you are Courier, you are always in our hearts. Stay tuned tonight at 7:00 for The Courier: The True Story, the radio representation of the true biography." 

An orchestra strikes up. 

"Yipeay. They'll be no wedding bells for today." 

"Why don't you Jingle Jangle Jingle down to your nearest Radiation King outlet store, to pick up the finest in refurbished Pre War radios! Replace that crackle with the sizzle of hot tunes and tales from the finest voices from the wasteland..." 

Maximilian turned off the radio. 

Max was a young man. He was 19, and full of life. The room he was sitting in was his room and the bed he was laying on was his bed. Around him hung surplus war posers with pictures of NCR troopers and the villains they had slain. 

"NCR Trooper. You bring DEMOCRACY to this land" 

"People of New Vegas, this is your friend" 

"Don't eat irradiated food" 

Dust floated in the sun beams that shone through the window. The beams shone straight against the wall, meaning the sun was going down. The light shown on a bookcase. The bookcase was filled with biographies of The Vault Dweller, The Chosen One, The Courier, and multiple smaller heroes of the New California Republic. There was a book on Tandi, and the subsequent presidents of the NCR. Along with this there were Books on the wars of the NCR. The rise and fall of The Master, the war with the Brotherhood, etc. There was one book on American History. Some fiction books were there. Mostly Pre War. He hardle read them as they had little significance on the present day. 

A distant voice reached his ears. It was feminine. 

"Max! Come help me with the Maize! I need to carry all this in!" 

It was the voice of his mother. 

Max took the stairs to the living room. 

"Did you listen to the broadcast! Did you hear how the Courier stuck it to those Legionaries!" Max's little sister of 5 years exclaimed. 

"Yes, and had I known you were listening I would have come down here too." 

"Play it again...my Johnny" The radio played as Max left the farmhouse. 

His mother was carrying a big straw basket of corn to the store house. 

"I'm sorry ma. I didn't know you were working out here by yourself." said Max. 

"Where were you?" 

"I was listening to the radio program ma. It was about The Courier." 

"I swear" Said his mother as she put down the basket of corn. "If you don't get away from Radioland and stop reading all those silly books about past heroes you'll never make anything of yourself because you'll never be in the here and now" 

"Aw Ma. I'm sorry." 

"You'll never get out of here like you want to by listening to the radio. And we'll never make it out of Modoc without your help, now grab some corn." 

Max eagerly helped his mother carry in the corn. 

"Ma, I miss Dad." 

His mother put down the corn and sighed for a moment. 

"...Ever since your father..." 

"You can say it Ma. There is no shame in the way he died." 

"Ever since he died in defense of the Dam this farm has been drying up. I can't do all the work here by myself, and the quality of the goods has been decreasing steadily." 

"I help where I can Ma. But I got lil sissy to take care of for you. I can't be in two places at once. Besides..." 

"I know you want to leave here. Get away from this middle of nowhere town but where would we go? We are not but poor farmers eking our a living, watering the plants with the sweat on our brow." 

"I've been thinking... I might join the Army." 

"...The Army! Well you know there ain't no shame in what they do, but I need you here...and I were to loose you to The Wasteland... I don't know how I could live with myself letting you go on like that." 

"It's a risk Ma." 

"The war is over, Max. They don't pay soldiers like they used to no more. We'll talk about this more tonight around the dinner table. For now, help me package the corn for market." 

Night fell.


	3. Ain't Gonna Work On Maggies Farm No More

Max was awoke to the violent shaking of his mother. 

"Max! Max wake up!" 

"Ma! Why's is smell like... SMOKE!" 

"Son, get up!" 

Max got out of bed and ran down the stairs, past his crying sister. Him and his mother rush out the front door to the farmhouse, and shield their eyes from the uncanny brightness. 

The field of Maize before them was aflame. The corn stalks were crackling and tumbling down. All their hard work was burning before their eyes. 

"Mommy! Mommy do something!" Shouted Max's sister. 

Shadows were moving in the flames, darting back and forward. 

"No. No no no no." 

Max ran back into the farmhouse as his mother ran to the well. She hoisted up a bucket of water from the farm's well. 

Max returned with his father's old Cowboy Repeater. 

"Fire Geckos in Modoc?" Exclaimed Max. 

"Just shoot em!" His mother shouted. 

Max hoisted the gun to his shoulder and looked down the scope. He heard a scream. 

"Mommy! Max! Help!" 

A Gecko was running right at his sister. He tracked it with the scope and fired off a shot, pumping the lever action, and expelling the shell case. He ran over and scooped up his little sister and aimed the gun with one hand at another Gecko. He Pulled the trigger and missed. The Gecko lunged at him and he flipped the rifle around with his hand and smashed the Gecko upside the head with the butt of the gun. 

Max's mother poured water over the flames to no avail. 

"Ma! Forget it! We can't fight Geckos and fire." 

The Geckos retreated over the hill, away from the flames. 

Max's Mother came over to him. Max, holding his sister, the rifle lowered at his side, stood by his mother. His mother was in tears. Their bodies were silhouetted by the flames as their livelihood burned away, taken from them, when it was all they had. 

"Max. Give me your sister. I'll protect her and the storehouse. We'll need the food in there." 

"For what?" asked Max. 

"For our long walk." His mother said. 

"What am I going to do? Fight the flames?" 

"No. It's over. Our lives here are over. Go into the house and save only whats important." 

"Max ran into the house and went up the stairs. He went into his mother's room and collected all the Pre War jewelery, any other valuables, and a set of travel clothes for his mother. He then went to his room and got the same for him. He carried all he could of his little sister's toys out of her room along with some blankets and sacks bedding. He went into the kitchen and got a large pot. 

He dumped what he carried outside the front door, and went back in. 

"Max! Hurry up! The house has caught fire!" 

"I'm hurrying! Just one more thing! 

He ran into his mother's bedroom again. He went to the big cabinate and pulled at the doors. They were locked. He ripped apart his mothers dresser till he found the key. He unlocked the Cabinet, and opened the doors. There inside the cabinet was a tan and brown jacket. It hung out in a special hanger, and the breast plate was strung up on the front. Below it were folded pants, and ontop of those there sat a helmet with a pair of goggles attached. On the patch above the breast plate it read M. Amoses. Most importantly, in a wooden box, there lay a wrist mounted machine. A Pipboy 3000. 

Max took it and put it on. It plugged itself into his wrist to measure his vital signs. He grabbed his father's uniform and dashed out of the burning house. The now destitute family watched thier house burn, with only a hand full of posessions in backpacks, and a sack full of all the corn they could carry. Tomorrow morning they would set out. 


	4. The Last Bit Of Home

The sun was high in the sky, beaming down on the great I-5 where the Amoses family was trudging down the road. Thier pack brahmen groaned and grunted from the weight of the pack on it's beastly back. Leading the brahmen was Max's mother. Max's sister rode on his shoulders, looking up at the sky.

"you're gonna have to walk yourself sometime, sis. If we find vipers or Jackles, or god forbid, Paladins, I can't shoot back with you on my shoulders!" said Max.

"Brotherhood Paladins! you mean we could see one! Oh coooool!" Said his little sister.

"Heh. you're just like Ma. ...I wish Pa was here to see how you've grown."

The brahmin grunted loudly, and swished it's tail. Pots and pans clinked and clanked with each shake of the brahmin. It carried dried noodles for food, and a little meat.

Time went on, and the sun grew hotter, and the Amoses family sweat more and more. The brahmin panted. It's udder was small. The sun was just abbout setting when the brahmin cried out and collapsed, weezing.

"Ma! The Sow!" Cried Max.

Mother Amoses rushed to the brahmin and soon shushed her crying daughter.

"Heat stroke. Nothing we can do for her now. Max, hun. Gimme your repeater."

"But Ma! What about all the stuff we carrying? How are we gonna carry it?"

"Mommy Mommy! Don't Kill Brussels!"

Max's little sister began sobbing again. Max grabbed her and put a hand over her mouth.

"Shush! I was serious about those vipers now! They'll hear us!"

"Max, your repeater." Said Mother Amoses.

"Aw Ma. Really, maybe it just needs a rest."

"Brussels!" Cried his sister.

"Shush you!" Max said quietly wile he yanked her to his side.

"Max, it's brain is gone. It's a stoke, it aint tired. It's best if we put it out of it's misery..."

"...Well Ok. But I still wanna know how we are going to carry all this stuff."

"Lets not worry about that now. We'll camp here for a night." Said Max's mother.

Max handed his Ma his repeater, and she cocked the lever. She put the barrel to the brahmin's head.

"BRUSSELS!" Screamed Max's sister.

Max's mother pulled the trigger and the brahmin stopped moving. The little sister started sobbing quietly, collapsing on the floor. Max's mother went to hold her.

"Shush now baby, it's just a brahmin..."

"But Ma..." Said Max. "It wern't just a brahmin. It was our last tie to home. Now we got nothing left of out life."

"Shush now baby girl" Said her mother. "Go find the wood in the brahmin sack and help your brother make a fire."

Reluctantly, Max's little sister went with her big brother.


End file.
